The
Praying Mantis
Ava
Hanssen
Upon
a twig I sit and pray
for something big to come my way.
With my
two big eyes I wait to see
If something yummy will pass by me.
I
come and sit on my twig every day;
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.
I don’t care what day it
may be.
This lifestyle is my cup of tea.
I’d
prefer this lifestyle over any other, by the way.
I dream about
what might come down my highway.
It doesn’t matter if it flies,
jumps, or is rather crawly,
I’ll sit here and wait for it
happily.
Then
when something finally comes down my roadway,
I’ll dance with
joy when I see my prey.
Whether it’s a caterpillar, a moth or a
bee,
I’ll swallow it… Religiously.
Friends
Brittany
Tucker
Friendship comes in many forms; it has so
many faces.
It shows in unexpected ways, in unexpected
places.
You’re sitting somewhere in a crowd- alone, a little
scared,
Then someone sits down next to you; acknowledgments are
shared.
A little smile, exchange of names, you talk and then you
grin.
You’re laughing, then next thing you know you’ve found
yourself a friend.
Alone no more, no longer scared, somehow you’re
having fun-
Like on those rainy days when through the clouds
breaks out the sun.
You find out things you never knew- this
friend is really smart!
You’re smiling, laughing, having fun.
You’ve let them in your heart.
Time wears on, but you can’t
tell. You’re busy and don’t know.
What are clocks? You’re
with a friend. But really, you must go.
Your time is up, you have
to leave, but this isn’t the end.
You know that you will not
forget this unexpected friend.
Friendship comes in many forms; it
has so many faces,
So look for friends- and be a friend- in any
and all places.
Shall
I Feel Uncertain When I Have God?
Daniel Hayes
My
uncertainty is a powerful feeling,
Causing anxiety, frustration,
and anger.
Its presence can make me blind to danger;
And that
thought is quite unappealing.
Uncertainty
can send my imagination reeling,
Imagining calamities, to that I’m
no stranger.
But God’s arms are strong, He suppresses my
anger;
When I call on Him, He sends His healing.
I
had no idea what to write for this sonnet,
Not even a clue,
because I’m not a poet.
I asked God for help, and He certainly
showed it.
(It being what to write for this sonnet)
When
I heard I had to write this, I started to sweat;
But with God’s
help, I’m finished, even though I’m no poet.
Racing
Ginny
Sherrod
I
hear the thunderous roar,
Of the wind rushing past my ears,
I
feel like I could soar,
Or let go of all my fears.
The steady
hoof beats pound the ground,
And the rush of wind and air,
Drown
out any other sound,
As the wind flows through my hair.
Clouds
of dust pound from the ground,
And form great clouds that
drift.
Nervous jockeys glance around,
Their steeds run tall and
swift.
Between my partner’s ears, I see
The finish line, a
wonderful sight.
My heart pounds, my horse races free,
As the
sun dips low to welcome night.
As we pass the finish line, the
roar of the crowd
Breaks the monotonous rush of the wind.
The
blend of noises, in my ears ring loud,
As I dismount my partner,
the fastest of his kind.
Blind
in Chaos
Jonathan
Edward Wong
Spinning,
whirling, falling, and rising
we dance through life’s chaotic
paths
we pause, we run, we drop and disappear
in madness we
search for greater meaning
the
answer sits and waits for recognition
hidden in the book on our
shelves
calling, beckoning, warning
for as we gyrate we fail to
realize the danger
the
One above all calls to His chosen
He offers them refuge with His
Son
who is the guide for redemption
He paid the terrible price,
His perfect life
how
can one repay the debt?
the gift is beyond human measure
it is
the greatest treasure
the Lord Jesus Christ
Winning
A Hockey Game
Matt
Palmer
Adrenaline
rushing as I prepare for the game,
Practice
shots and passes to players by name,
Group
stretching like rubber to loosen tight muscles,
Coaches
final words before faceoff are to “hustle!”
The
faceoff happens and with lightning speed the players skate,
Checking,
hitting, shooting all with strength and weight,
Some
tense and careless plays are made by nervous guys,
Timeouts
happen, strategies are planned, with players now wise.
First
goal is scored – the energy is flowing, now we fly,
Diving,
swarming toward the net we score with one try,
The
other team won’t quit, they score, we fight to reign,
Time
runs out, we score at last, the work was not in vain.
Fences
Lenae
Allen
The
fence, though crooked,
Beaten, weather-worn,
Tilted, grayed,
wooden,
Strung with barbed wire-
That fence, though old,
Hemmed
in with ivy,
And clover, dirt-speckled,
Wet with Virginia’s
morning dew…
This fence kept the sheep in,
The bears out,
Got
me out of bed each day,
Forced me to care, tend, ache,
Kept my
health up, I suppose,
It’s a good fence.
It’s how some
people need to be,
Reliable, and quiet.
Memories
Catherine
Sparkman
There
is no limit to that which the memory can extend
It’s reaching
hands to grasp and defend
It might just be one of yesterday’s
most comical moments
Or a terribly horrendous act of years
ago
There is no difference though
They are, alike, memories,
events,
however small, it does not matter
They are stories you
can scold or flatter
Some may be sweet
And some may be
sour
Each possesses its own power
However short, however
fleeting.
Memories can appear both hideous and divine
Judged by
your mind’s eye
To the hideous you say,
“Away away!”
But
the divine are always welcome
Your mind cherishes their company
On
cloudy days
Finally, memories are the key to keeping alive
People,
places, events, long past
They awaken and revive
When all else
is dead
Memories are still there
Ever and always, to remind you
of times more blessed.
Contemplating
David
Caroline Thomas
Ah,
the David!
Such a marvelous thing.
Created by Michelangelo
himself.
His sculptures were so fine.
His paintings
divine.
Hardly matched by anyone else.
Yet why is it that
he,
Was so enthralled by the human body;
That he thought it
needed no clothes?
For clothes keep us warm.
And keep away
looks of scorn!
Isn’t that something everyone knows?
Yet
there David stands.
Viewed by people from all lands.
Said to
be, a masterpiece of art.
Yet
if I created he.
Which I couldn’t.
But you’d see…
If
not all his clothes on, at least part!
Freedom
to Fly
Abigail
Massey
Connecting
soul and body,
She
allows the body to
Express
the spirit aptly.
Spinning
through heaven and earth
She
flits upon that forbidden bridge
That
lies between consciousness and dreams.
She
allows an electrical
Thrill
of excitement to flow
Freely
through her physical.
The
current races past
Her
fingertips as if limbs
Were
extended by ribbons vast.
A
dancer’s graceful movements
Know
no tangible boundaries;
Nothing
can stop her brilliance.
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